


Sister Sammy

by Draycevixen



Series: Change of Habit [1]
Category: Life on Mars (UK)
Genre: Costume Kink, First Time, M/M, Roleplay, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-29
Updated: 2011-03-29
Packaged: 2017-10-17 08:49:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/175071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Draycevixen/pseuds/Draycevixen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for m31andy, who said: <i>Well, we've had "Annie in a nun's habit is more than Gene can stand" and "Ray in a nun's habit is more than someone (NOT Chris) can stand"... but what I really want to see is Sam/Gene and Sam in the nun's habit. Pretty please? No plot really, just smutty mcsmutt. </i></p><p>Only it does have a little plot. *g*</p><p>(I also wrote the Annie in a nun's habit one for the Life on Mars Anonymous pornfest, which can be found here, <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/174746">Sister Annie</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	Sister Sammy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Andromeda](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Andromeda/gifts).



.

Sam took one last look in the mirror, trying to make sure everything was hanging straight.

The door to the Gents slammed open noisily, announcing Gene’s arrival. Sam watched him in the mirror as he ground to a halt, before moving slowly forward again.

“What in the buggering hell are you wearing?”

“It’s a nun’s habit.”

“I can see that Tyler.”

“Then why’d you ask?”

“I meant why isn’t the plonk wearing it?”

“The convent’s right next door to the bank. Someone’s got to stay with the nuns to make sure they’re safe and Annie’s the only one they’ll let past the door.”

“Chris then.”

“D’you really want Chris to be our inside man on a suspected bank robbery?”

“Bugger!”

“Yeah.”

It don’t fit you right.”

“Don’t think it’s supposed to be tight, Guv, and anyway, Sister Josephine’s more your size.”

“You comparing me to a nun?”

“Just saying your built like one, though you probably don’t drink as much whisky as she does.”

“C’mon then.”

“Where we going?”

“The Gene Genie doesn’t wait in the car. If your wearing _that_ I’m going to need a dog collar.”

 

***

Sam was stunned to be introduced to an old friend of Gene’s who was a parish priest. He was even more stunned when Gene emerged from a back room of the church dressed in a black suit and a black shirt with a dog collar.

“I thought you might be sporting vestments.”

“Not a chance, Tyler. I leave the dresses to the girls.” Gene ran a finger under the dog collar, tugging slightly. “What you staring at now?”

“There’s just something really wrong about you dressed as a priest.”

“It’s what me Mam wanted.”

“Well… that’s Mams for you, totally unrealistic.”

“I think what you meant to say is that it’s totally unrealistic to keep a man as magnificent as me away from womankind.”

“Yeah, that’s what I meant of course.”

“So would _your_ Mam like to see you in that dress?”

“It’s a habit ,Guv.”

“You like it that much?”

“Christ! Let’s just get to the bank and get this over with.”

 

***

 

“Bank manager says we can wait in here. In these outfits we can pass for customers waiting to speak to him.”

Sam sat in one of the customer chairs and Gene crossed to the window in the office wall that looked out over the bank. “Good view of everything from here.” He paced around the office, frowning hard at the hand lettered sign on the manager’s desk that said _No smoking please_.

“Would you sit down, Guv. All that pacing doesn’t make you look very centred like a priest should be.”

“ _Centred?_ What the hell are you going on about now?”

“Never mind.”

“And look who’s talking. Don’t rightly remember the last time I saw a nun who needed a shave. Well there was that one nun back at the Sisters of Perpetual Misery who—” Gene looked back over his shoulder at Sam. “Don’t rightly remember the last time I saw a Nun sit that way either. Knees together, Gladys.”

“Right. Sorry, Guv.”

Gene kept pacing, looking around the room, eyes frequently returning to Sam.

“Well if need be I could always hide under your skirts and surprise the villains that way.”

“God _NO_!”

Sam knew he’d made a mistake as Gene’s full attention came to rest on him.

“ _No_?”

“I meant not a good idea, cloth doesn’t stop bullets now does it?”

“Something’s up. Out with it, Tyler.”

“I haven’t got any trousers on.”

“What?”

“I haven’t got any trousers on under here.”

“What d’you mean, you don’t have any trousers on? _Why?_ ”

“What if they saw my trousers sticking out from the bottom of the habit?”

“You could’ve rolled the bottoms up.”

“Not and got the wool stockings on right.”

“You’re wearing wool stockings under there?”

As Gene’s eyes dropped to his hemline, Sam self-consciously smoothed the robe around his legs.

“Sister Josephine gave me a pair so it’d look right. Lucky she wears the same size shoes as me.”

“You’re wearing nun’s shoes?”

“Of course. Couldn’t wear my boots. You didn’t think these were mine?”

“So you’re wearing just the habit?”

“And the stockings… and my St. Christopher.”

Gene had begun to turn back to the window, but jerked back around.

“Tyler, for Christ’s sake, tell me you’ve got Y-fronts on under there at least.”

“This all came up so suddenly. I didn’t have any on this morning under my trousers, hadn’t done my wash and—”

“Not another word. Just promise me you won’t get shot.”

“Nice to know you care, Guv.”

“I don’t, I just don’t want to have to explain to the nurses at the hospital what me DI is doing wearing just a nun’s habit and some wool stockings. CID would be the laughing stock of Manchester by morning.”

“Right, Guv. _No getting shot_. I’ll make a note.”

***

Things had gone pretty smoothly until one of the gunmen had slapped an elderly woman and Sam had rushed forward causing one of the shotguns to swing in his direction. If it hadn’t been for the gunman’s momentary hesitation, probably caused by Sam’s outfit, and then Gene hurling him to the floor, Sam would have certainly been on the way to the hospital, if not to the morgue.

Gene ended up with his hands on Sam’s lower legs, his head coming to rest on Sam’s wool covered arse.

Ray had helped Gene to his feet, leaving Sam to clamber ungracefully back up on his own, careful to keep his hem line down past his knees in the process.

“Guv, I—”

“Shut it, Tyler, I’ll deal with you later. A word in your shell like, Raymondo…”

Sam had been left standing there as Gene had put Ray in charge of the scene. The bank was stifling hot and Sam pulled the wimple from his head, knowing the sweat was slicking his hair to his head.

“Tyler, you’re with me.”

***

“Why are we going this way? The station—”

“Taking you past your place so you can change.”

“But my clothes are back at the station, it’d save time to—”

“We’re here now.”

Sam was aware of Gene close to his back all the way up the stairs, guessing Gene wanted to take issue with him over the way the bank operation had transpired. He grinned to himself thinking of Gene saying “issue” and “transpired.”

They’d barely made it through the door before Gene had both hands wrapped into the material of the habit, dragging Sam up on to his toes and in to Gene’s chest.

“Tyler, would you—”

“I’m sorry, Guv, it’s just when he hit that woman I—”

“Don’t care about that, would you—”

“Couldn’t stop myself from moving and—”

“Shut it!” Gene’s lips crashed down on Sam’s mouth effectively silencing him.

It took a few shocked seconds for Sam to kiss back, arching against him, sucking on Gene’s tongue.

Gene wrenched his mouth away. “Tyler?”

“...Huh?”

“Put the wimple back on.”

“You—”

“Don’t ask questions, just do it. I’ll make it worth your while.”

Gene’s fingers slowly travelled down Sam’s body to where the habit was tenting, rubbing very lightly over the cloth.

Sam scrambled to pick up the wimple he’d dropped after being grabbed by Gene, pulling it rapidly back on to his head.

“Good.” Gene slowly raised his eyes from Sam’s crotch. “You got a ruler?”

“Christ, Guv I know you’re competitive and all, but if you think we’re going to measure our—”

“Not why I want it you twonk. Now, ruler?”

“Don’t have one here.”

“And you with the fetish for office supplies? Thought you’d have drawers full of them, hidden under your bulldog clips, expandable files and copies of _Mayfair_.”

“No rulers.” Sam crossed his arms.

“Right then.” Gene slowly unbuckled his belt and unzipped his flies. “Guess your hand’ll have to do.”

Sam started to reach for him but Gene slipped his trousers down to his thighs and turned around to bend over the table, presenting his backside to Sam.

“I’ve been a very bad boy, Sister Sammy.”

Sam stumbled toward him. “Gene, I—”

Gene lowered his torso toward the table pushing his hips higher into the air.

“I’ve been a _very_ bad boy. I _deserve_ to be punished, Sister. _Now!_ ”

Up until then, Sam hadn’t thought he could get any harder. Sam ran one hand across the back of Gene’s pants.

“That’ll be quite enough of that, Gene Hunt. Not another word if you don’t want me to spank you in front of the whole school.”

Sam heard Gene’s barely stifled groan and felt Gene’s arse press up against his hand.

“These’ll have to come off.”

Sam pulled Gene’s pants down in one swift move, hearing Gene’s sharp intake of breath as they snagged on his erection before joining Gene’s trousers around his knees. Sam stroked his hands across Gene’s bare arse.

“Wait a minute.” Sam stepped away from Gene and started to rummage in the bottom of his wardrobe. “I’ve got a better idea.”

“Your sense of timing leaves a lot to be desired, Tyler.”

“I thought it was in here.” Sam turned around from the wardrobe to show Gene the ping pong paddle in his hand. “Must have been left by a prior renter.”

“And what you planning on doing with that?”

“Don’t ask stupid questions, Hunt. In fact don’t say anything more at all if you know what’s good for you.”

Sam didn’t miss Gene’s grin as he lowered his face back down to the table. He dug his hand into one of Gene’s buttocks, hard enough to leave bruises.

“And what exactly is so funny, Hunt?”

Sam stepped back and to the side and let the paddle swing, putting his weight into it. Gene’s body arched off the table.

“I asked you a question, boy!”

“Nothing Sister, nothing’s funny.”

“You’re an insolent boy who needs to learn some manners.”

Sam swung the paddle again.

Gene sucked in air. “I’m sorry, Sister. I won’t do it again.”

This time Sam struck twice in a row, one blow to each cheek.

“Likely story. You’ve got to learn to be a good boy.”

Sam was his usual model of efficiency, working into an even, driving rhythm, careful to pay equal attention to both of Gene’s arse cheeks. By the time Gene’s arse was flaming red, he was practically writhing against the table. Sam slowed his strokes, starting to reach under Gene in order to finish him off.

“Fuck no!” Gene reared up off the table turned to grab Sam and pushed him back against the wall, despite still being hobbled by his trousers. He braced one arm against Sam’s chest to hold him in place then used his other hand to free his legs of his pants and trousers after kicking off his loafers.

Gene pulled the wimple from Sam’s head and kissed him hard, hands working at the rope tied around Sam’s waist. Sam dropped the paddle and instinctively clutched at Gene’s arse, causing Gene to hiss against his mouth. Sam dropped his hands instantly.

“I’m sorry Gene I—”

Gene grasped Sam’s chin forcing his head back to make eye contact. “Don’t fucking say that.” Gene started nipping at Sam’s neck as his hands went back to the rope belt, finished untying it and then dropped it on the floor. “Arms up, Sam.”

As Sam complied, Gene dragged the habit up over Sam’s head and threw it on the ground behind him. Gene took a step back to look at Sam.

“Christ, Sam, just as bloody advertised.”

Sam could feel Gene’s eyes rake over him, taking in the St. Christopher at his neck and the wool stockings rolled at mid-thigh.

Gene stepped in close again, running his left hand down Sam’s ribs before moulding it to Sam’s hip. His right hand moved to run lightly up Sam’s erection.

“Don’t find many of these in a convent, don’t find many this size anywhere. No wonder you don’t keep a ruler around you can probably just use this instead.”

Gene tightened his hand, grinning at Sam’s gasp.

“Careful, I haven’t used it for much of anything in a while.”

“Let’s see what we can do about that, Sammy.”

Gene dropped to his knees and inhaled Sam’s cock, running his hands across Sam’s arse, digging his fingers in.

“Fuck Gene, I’m not going to ast if—”

Gene grinned up at Sam around his cock and bit down lightly, cutting off whatever thought Sam was about to utter, and causing him to throw his head back exposing the long column of his throat, his St. Christopher catching the light.

Gene slowed down, sometimes engulfing Sam’s cock, sometimes licking his way up the length of it, sometimes swirling his tongue around the head.

Sam dug his nails into his palms in frustration. “I thought I said you have to learn to be a good boy, Hunt.” He ran his fingers into Gene’s hair, trying to control Gene’s movements.

Gene snapped his head back. “You have no idea yet how good I can be.” He clutched at Sam’s hips, levering himself back to his feet.

Gene turned back to the table and bent over again. Sam was left off balance in the middle of the room with a raging erection, staring at Gene’s still pink and inflamed arse.

“Gene, I–”

Gene looked back over at his shoulder at him, obviously an uncomfortable move as the dog collar bit into his neck.

“Fuck me Sammy for I have sinned.”

Sam was across the room to the drawer by his bed before Gene had finished speaking. Under his office supplies catalogue and a couple of bulldog clips was a bottle of lube. He walked swiftly back to Gene, pouring some into his hand and putting the bottle down on the table.

Sam ran slick fingers between Gene’s buttocks.

“I think you’re forgetting who’s in charge here, Hunt.”

Sam slapped his left hand hard against Gene’s arse causing him to rear up against Sam’s fingers, pushing them further in.

“Christ, Sam!”

“Don’t be blasphemous, Hunt!” Sam spanked harder, sinking in another finger.

“Bugger!”

“Such language!” Sam scissored his fingers, spanking Gene again.

“Bloody sadist!”

“Don’t make me fetch my paddle.” Sam slowly withdrew his fingers, rotating them slightly, causing Gene to shudder.

Sam reached for the bottle again. “Say ‘I’m sorry, Sister.’” He started coating his cock.

“No I bloody well won’t.”

“Look at me, Hunt.”

Gene looked back over his shoulder again, only to see Sam slowly stroking himself.

“Do you want this?”

“Already said it.”

“Then say you’re sorry.”

“Or what?”

Sam pumped his hips a little into his hand. “Or this ends right here.”

Gene licked his lips and turned his head back face down to the table.

“I’m sorry Sister.” 

“I can’t hear you, Hunt.”

“ Poncey bugger I said I’m sorry, Sister.”

Sam grasped Gene’s hips, sinking his fingers into the sensitive flesh, and pushed his cock into him, stopping to let Gene adjust and to avoid it all being over far too soon.

When Gene pushed back Sam slid further in and stopped again, listening to Gene’s ragged breathing.

“ _Please_ , Sam.”

With that Sam thrust all the way in. “You are so fucking tight.”

“Such language for a Sister.”

Gene’s laugh was cut short as Sam pulled back his hips and thrust in again, his hips striking against overly sensitive skin.

“The Mother Superior—” Sam thrust again “—always teaches—” and again “—that actions—” and again “—speak louder—” and again “—than words.”

Sam stopped moving, running his hands up under Gene’s shirt and back down his spine.

“You’re a very good pupil, Sister.”

Sam changed his stance and pushed down on Gene’s hips, changing his angle. “You have no idea yet how good I can be.” When he started moving again, Gene started moaning as Sam hit his prostate every time.

Sam wrapped his hand around Gene’s cock, smearing pre-come, jerking once, twice, before feeling Gene come all over his hand. With the clenching of Gene’s muscles, Sam spilled inside him.

For a few minutes they lay there panting, Sam folded over Gene’s back.

“Get up, Sam.”

Sam reluctantly pushed up, pulling out of Gene and stepping back.

Gene was slower standing, before turning around, ripping off the dog collar and starting to unbutton the shirt.

“You are a good boy, Hunt. You even remembered to bring a snack for Sister.”

Gene stood transfixed as Sam licked his hand clean.

As Sam started to pick up the habit and Gene’s trousers off the floor, Gene finished taking off his shirt and moved over to the bed, perching on the edge, wincing, before sliding over to lie on his side.

“What you doing, Sam?”

“We need to get cleaned up and back to the station in order to—”

“Not going back. Told Ray we had some loose ends to tie up, that we might see them down the pub later, depending on when we were done.”

“So are we done?”

“Not by half Sammy boy. Come here.”

Sam dropped the clothes on to the armchair and joined Gene on the bed facing him.

“First, we’re going to have a nice kip. Then we’re going to get something to eat. And then—” Gene ran his hand possessively over Sam’s arse “—I’m going to prove I wasn’t lying to Ray by investigating your loose end.”

“It’s not loose, Gene.”

“The Mother Superior must be so proud.”

“So the plan is sleep, eat, shag, then what?”

“We keep ministering to each other’s needs and see where it takes us.”

“Gene I—”

Gene silenced him with a kiss, before pulling back to grin wolfishly at Sam.

“Truth is Sam, you’d be a hard habit to break.”

.


End file.
